“Hey, isn’t this a big deal?”
“···What?”
“People are going crazy because of you. They’re even fighting in the comments.”
“Fighting because of me? Who···”
“Here, look at this.”
Jiu exclaimed excitedly and turned the laptop to show me the screen.
What the hell.
Who the hell would fight because of me···
“···They’re really fighting.”
“I told you, these people are serious.”
“Why are they fighting···”
“I don’t know. They’re comparing you to other players and going crazy fighting. You’d think it was some kind of debate tournament.”
···A sigh escapes me.
I don’t really care if fans fight among themselves, especially online··· but when the subject is me, it’s a different story.
These people are fighting seriously because of me.
└Didn’t you see this time? Both Vlahović and Dybala were completely shut out by Villarreal. This is the reality of Serie A right now. It’s not going to be any different just because it’s Ri.
└They’re them, and Ri is different. Just look at the stats. Vlahović has 18 goals and 2 assists in the league. Dybala has 8 goals and 3 assists. Meanwhile, Ri has 20 goals and 11 assists in the league.
└If you only look at current form, there’s no player better than Ri. Not even in all of Europe.
└You have to consider the league level. Do you think Ri could put up these numbers if he played in the Premier League?
└I don’t think it’s impossible. I think Ri could do at least as well as De Bruyne even if he went to the PL right now.
└De Bruyne? Are you out of your mind? If De Bruyne came to Serie A right now, he’d probably have something like 20 goals and 20 assists.
└Viola friends, I understand favoring your own, but you need to calm down a bit. If you’re going to say Ri has the best form in Europe, you’re saying he’s surpassed Messi, Ronaldo, Mbappé, Neymar, Benzema, Vinicius, Salah, Griezmann, etc. Do you think that’s possible?
└That’s nonsense. Goodness, a player who hasn’t even completed one full season yet.
└Hey, let’s be precise. We’re talking about this season, and only current form. It’s true that Messi is an unreachable being, but this season’s Messi at PSG is below expectations. I don’t think this season’s Ri would fall behind.
└Then what about Mbappé? You might not know since you only watch Serie A, but Mbappé currently has 24 goals and 14 assists in the league. And 6 goals and 4 assists in the UCL. Are you saying Ri has surpassed that?
└It’s Ligue 1, though.
└But it’s also true that there’s no team in Serie A that looks like it could beat PSG, right?
└You never know until you face them. I don’t know about Juventus, but Fiorentina has a chance.
└Just the fact that a 16-year-old is being compared to the best players in the first place shows how amazing Ri is.
└Yeah. I think everyone is forgetting, but Ri is 16 years old right now. Messi was on Barcelona’s B team at 16, too.
└Everyone acknowledges that he’s performing tremendously for his age. The problem is that that’s separate from whether it translates to the Champions League.
└If you look only at records at the same age, Mbappé is accumulating stats faster than Messi. But no one says Mbappé is better than Messi.
└Well, we’ll see. Whether Ri works in the Champions League or not.
Just reading it makes me dizzy and sigh.
It really was a heated debate just like Jiu said.
I have a feeling this is all because of yesterday’s interview.
No, to be exact, it’s because of the reporter who weirdly blew it out of proportion.
Wow, really···
How could they take what I meant as “I’m excited to meet and learn from better players,” and spin it as “I wonder if there’s anyone better than me”?
Reporters really seem to be the best in the world at exploiting how the slightest difference in wording can completely change the meaning.
I thought I had a decent read on people with microphones by now, but I guess not.
Thanks to that, I had become someone like Rika Romero going around shouting “I’m the best!”
······I hate it.
“But seriously, are England and Spain really better at soccer?”
Jiu, taking the laptop back, asks.
I answered with a shrug.
“They’re probably bigger.”
“What do you mean by bigger?”
“Well··· for one, they have more money. And more great players.”
“Is the difference huge?”
“Not huge. Maybe, a little···?”
The truth is, I don’t really know either.
It’s just that watching English teams on TV broadcasts, or seeing Juventus lose to Spanish teams, gave me an indirect feeling. That’s all.
Since I haven’t faced them directly, it’s hard to say for sure just how big the gap is.
That’s why I’m curious.
How good are the teams in other leagues, and the players famous as geniuses there?
And where exactly do I stand among them?
“I can’t really imagine it.”
“···What?”
“That there’s anyone better than you? I can’t imagine it.”
Hmm··· I guess I’ve been playing soccer with real desperation until now.
Seeing Jiu say that.
But it’s probably because Jiu doesn’t know much about soccer.
Jiu probably never sought out overseas matches on her own, and the only games she’s seen are mine.
She can say that because she’s never seen the play of real geniuses.
But the idea that I’m the best at soccer in the world is absurd.
That doesn’t make any sense.
If that were true, I’d have to win the Ballon d’Or.
But does that make sense?
Of course not.
It’s hard to even imagine. That.
“···”
But··· even though I know it’s absurd···
When I look at Jiu, I can’t help but wish that impossible thing were real.
No, isn’t it obvious?
Since she believes in me like that, it’s only natural that I don’t want to betray that faith.
I want to make that absurd imagination a reality.
Jiu always makes me have that kind of ambition.
“Well··· we’ll know when we face them.”
“Ooh. Confident?”
When I shrug and say that, Jiu laughs and asks.
“Confident···”
I’m not confident.
To be honest, I’m scared.
I’m scared that I’ll look too ordinary standing among real geniuses, and that Jiu will see that and know the truth.
But, on the other hand··· even knowing there’s that risk, I want to try challenging it.
If there’s a difference between the old me and the me now, it’s probably this.
When there’s something I need to challenge.
I’m still scared··· but instead of running away or turning a blind eye, I feel like I want to overcome it.
Maybe the magical things that happened over the past few months made me this way.
Or maybe I’ve developed a bad habit.
God pitied me and blessed me with a moment of luck, and perhaps I got drunk on that luck and lost my fear.
But, I don’t know.
Overcoming fear through challenge, and making the damp imaginations I only kept inside into reality, felt good.
Eliminating the fears inside me one by one.
And slowly becoming more confident in myself.
That really felt good.
“···I am confident. Who do you think I am.”
“Right, right. Just think about how this noona raised you.”
I smirk at Jiu’s words.
I’m a person who lacks courage.
So when I challenge something, if I don’t have a reason I must do it, I can’t easily try.
So I have to create that reason, and the best of them was making absurd bravado like this and cutting off any path of retreat.
Since I’ve blurted it out now, I have no choice but to work like crazy to make my words reality.
Of course, in ways no one can see.
It looks cooler to seem like a born genius rather than someone struggling and striving.
“Hey, anyway.”
“Huh?”
While I was nodding to myself, Jiu speaks.
“For now, I’m looking forward to next week.”
“Next week? To what?”
“Whoa, don’t tell me you forgot? You wanna die?”
At the sudden remark, I tilt my head, and Jiu shakes her fist at me.
I act scared of that cat-like soft punch.
“I know, I know.”
“Tsk, if you’d forgotten, I was going to make your old memories resurface.”
Saying it as if disappointed, Jiu beams a bright smile.
Next week is Jiu’s birthday.
As if I’d forget.
Ever since we first met, she’d drilled her birthday into me every year.
“What do you mean by making old memories resurface?”
“Don’t you remember? I think it was 4th grade. You forgot my birthday and just let it pass, so you begged me desperately.”
“When did I ever beg desperately?”
“Wow, look at this guy pretending not to remember.”
I do remember.
I completely do.
Back then, I forgot Jiu’s birthday and let it pass, so Jiu got really upset.
Even though she sat next to me, she wouldn’t talk to me, and she even drew a line saying she’d pinch me if I crossed over her desk.
She didn’t eat lunch with me either.
Still, I didn’t beg desperately.
I just said I was sorry···
Since Jiu always got me gifts on my birthdays.
I had my first birthday party because of Jiu.
“So, what do you want?”
“A gift? Hmm, hmm···”
When I ask casually, Jiu puts her finger to her lips and falls into thought with an expectant face.
If it were the old me, I would have felt anxious at that sight, but not now.
Because whatever Jiu says she wants, I can buy it for her.
Haha.
I may not look it, but I’m a man who earns 4,000 euros a week.
“Just say it. It’s fine.”
“Hmm, hmm···”
···No matter what, as Jiu’s deliberation stretches on, I get a little anxious.
Just how great of a thing could she want that she’s thinking so hard?
As I’m starting to get anxious bit by bit, the answer that soon comes out is unexpected.
“Then, you know. In next week’s match, after you score a goal.”
“···Yeah?”
“Do a celebration.”
“···A celebration?”
Jiu smiles and nods her head vigorously.
“But I have to be the only one who knows it. A normal celebration won’t do.”
“What does that mean?”
“I mean it has to have meaning. A meaning that only you and I know!”
···I’d rather she just asked me to buy her something.
This is too hard.
“But is that a gift···?”
“Yeah. You used to do celebrations for me before, but you haven’t lately. I’ve been disappointed.”
“···What kind of celebration should I do?”
“That’s for you to think about! Do I have to teach you that too?”
“···Got it. For now.”
“Okay. I’ll be looking forward to it? Our Jian needs to show some sense.”
“···”
Hmm.
My head suddenly started getting complicated.
·····
On Sunday, we left for an away trip to a city called Salerno.
Our opponent was a team with a hard-to-pronounce name: US Salernitana 1919.
Salernitana was currently 17th in the league, so everyone seemed to be in light spirits.
On the way there, we joked around, laughed and chatted, and even discussed what to eat after the match.
But I had no choice but to be serious the whole time.
Because I still hadn’t decided what celebration to do for Jiu’s birthday present.
But there was an even bigger problem than that.
Which was··· I wasn’t in the starting lineup.
“Hey, kid. Just trust your brothers. We’ll let you rest easy today.”
“Let’s show some senior-like dignity today, too. Let’s make sure the kid doesn’t have to come on!”
“Okay!”
No··· I have to play today···
Not knowing what I was thinking inside, the seniors just shouted fighting spirit.
And I couldn’t exactly tell the coach that I had to play··· so I just bit my nails and watched the match.
I have to play··· I have to play today···
While I was watching the match with such anxious feelings, a welcome event occurred around the 10th minute of the second half.
“These bastards···!”
The coach kicked a water bottle beside him.
Because we had conceded an equalizer.
The opponent was showing better defense than expected. Romero had scored once in the first half, but afterward, we couldn’t easily create additional goals.
In that situation, we took an unexpected blow from a header following a corner kick.
Since we conceded an equalizer to an opponent we expected to beat easily, it was natural for the coach to be angry.
And I, really terribly, was harboring expectation as I watched the angry coach.
Is this··· my chance?
“···”
“···”
While I glanced at the coach with such expectations, the coach suddenly looked at me with a rather troubled expression.
So I unnecessarily rolled my shoulders and shook my legs, appealing that my body was itching to move.
And a short while later.
The coach approached me and spoke in a very apologetic tone.
“Jian, you’ll need to warm up after all.”
It was a welcome sound mid-listening.
“Ah, yes!”
I jumped up from my seat, took off my bib, and warmed up by running along the touchline.
If anyone saw, they probably thought I was incredibly excited.
Well, I actually was.
“Substitution! Substitution!”
After warming up for about 15 minutes like that, around the 25th minute of the second half, I stood at the touchline.
This suddenly reminded me of old memories.
When Jiu first came to Italy, and when she came to watch my match.
Back then, I had also entered like this as a substitute.
And I remembered doing a celebration toward Jiu after scoring.
The feeling of wanting to score like that back then welled up in me again.
“···Sorry.”
“No. You worked hard.”
After clasping the hand of Saponara, who bowed his head deeply and extended his hand, I ran out onto the pitch.
And I thought.
···So what celebration should I do?